


Without Question

by Pseudosanity



Category: Chronicles of Riddick (2004), Chronicles of Riddick Series
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-03
Updated: 2013-10-03
Packaged: 2017-12-28 08:36:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/989966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pseudosanity/pseuds/Pseudosanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obedience has greater rewards than defiance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Without Question

**Author's Note:**

  * For [necromongerstallion](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=necromongerstallion).



> This was written for a moan meme on my Riddick Tumblr RP account. The person I wrote it for mentioned it seemed like a oneshot, so off to AO3 it went. Enjoy.
> 
> Fun fact: this drabble was my 666th post and, coincidentally, it's 666 words long. Go figure. B]

Sometimes Vaako wondered how he managed to get himself in these situations.

Before, he didn’t much have flare for risk, content to follow the duties required of him as a solider and a Necromonger. With nothing to go back to, his former life erased, Vaako was practical when it came to survival, thus showed immediate promise in battle; a forte he had already possessed, which thankfully was idolized in such a violent culture. It didn’t take long to procure himself a high status and having accomplished that, there was truly nothing else for him to seek. He fell into a dull routine.

Then the new Lord Marshal showed and pissed all over that, knocked down all his safety walls to challenge just how far his obedience lied. It was always about obedience with Riddick since he knew for certain he had loyalty. Those that weren’t loyal were easily dealt with, but obedience? That could be ingrained if one had the proper tools to do so; Riddick was more than adequate. So whenever the mood struck, the First Commander was tested.

At times he felt he played chaperone to one of his Lord Marshal’s absurd whims. More often than not, he fit into the role of accomplice, even if he hadn’t meant to. Did that make him just as crazy or something else? Vaako tried not to dwell on it, but it was difficult when he honestly couldn’t understand how he’d gotten on his knees in the High Chamber, the solid dais below him unforgiving yet barely registered, with his head in the lap of the Lord Marshal seated on the throne.

He should have been cautious about the hand weighted on the back of his skull. Vaako was abruptly shoved down while Riddick raised his hips, mildly choking him. A small wet hack emitted from his abused throat as he pulled off and wiped the saliva that drizzled down his chin with his inner wrist.

Vaako glared.

“You think too loud.” Riddick explained.

If that was supposed to be an apology, he wasn’t forgiven. Vaako was tempted to rise and walk, but Riddick seemed to sense that impulse and wove his fingers into dark braids, coiled them once around his hand. His mouth twisted in an arrogant smirk.

“Someone could walk in at any moment.” he reminded needlessly.

“Yeah, it’s possible.” By his flat tone, it was apparent Riddick only humored the Commander with this conversation.

“Did it ever occur to you, my Lord, that is conduct is highly inappropriate.”

“That’s kinda the point.”

“ _Riddick_.”

“ _Vaako_.”

Being mocked tightened his jaw as he gritted his teeth, praying to renew his patience that was increasingly wearing thin.

The Lord Marshal leaned forward a little. Despite himself, focus was drawn to Riddick’s arousal shined by spit— _his_ spit—and suddenly he could taste Riddick so clearly as if he’d never left his mouth; he could feel his lips stretched wide to accommodate his size; he could remember the smoothness of hard flesh that he laved his tongue over; he could hear the low, rough sounds and hitched breaths that praised his technique. The intense sense memory stoked a fire in his gut and warmth permeated the rest of his body, flushing his pallor to lusty pink. Combined with Riddick’s unnatural heat, Vaako wondered why he wasn’t singed yet. Regardless of protests, Vaako couldn’t deny the surge of _want_.

And Riddick wouldn’t let him.

His head was eased back, exposed the vulnerable length of throat, nails grazed his neck as the hold on his hair shifted, and Riddick idly trailed his thumb back and forth over Vaako’s lower lip. The way his Lord Marshal eyed him was enough to make his own erection (neglected ever since the start of this lunacy) jump sharply with interest. They stared at each other, a silent communication, and eventually came to an agreement as Vaako visibly relaxed. When Riddick lounged into the throne, spread his thighs to invite him closer, Vaako dutifully followed.


End file.
